


Loose

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Kingdom (TV 2014)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Episode Related, Father/Son Incest, Hand Jobs, Inadequate Lubrication, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Season 2, episode 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Lisa left, Nate started filling her shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loose

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Season 2, post episode 10.

Nate still wasn't used to the different streets. He'd been living in his dad's house for nearly a month, ever since he'd decided he just couldn't be around mom anymore, and it was still strange. He shadow-boxed and leapt over curbs and felt like a stranger running through these streets. Eyes peered out at him, old ladies with their fingers on the buttons and 9-1 already dialed. It added a bit of speed to his steps, especially as the house came into sight. 

As soon as he entered the door, Nate stripped out of his soaked hoodie, taking a moment to breathe in the air conditioning as it helped to cool him down. He mopped up some of the sweat on his face with the soaked fabric before dropping it to the floor. He'd pushed himself hard today, testing his reflexes, his knee. He wasn't exactly in training, but he wasn't ready to give it up completely just yet. 

"You call that a workout?"

Nate hadn't noticed his dad sitting in the dimness, sprawled across the couch like a dark, lumpy blanket. An empty glass caught a little of the morning light coming in through the window, the ice just a vague suggestion of water at the bottom. Alvey had left it behind a long time ago to drink straight from the now mostly-empty bottle held in his hand. 

Nate tilted his head forward, his eyes on the last remaining dregs of yellow-brown liquid at the bottom of the bottle. "You call that a breakfast?"

Alvey laughed, the sound mostly lost as he tossed his head back and downed the last of the whiskey in a few satisfied gulps. 

Nate sighed, guessing just how drunk Alvey had to be in order to be that relaxed. Without Lisa around, he didn't even try to hide the bottles anymore. Nate tried to gauge the man's mood, but there was no telling what he'd do.

"C'mon, dad, time for bed." 

Alvey grinned, that crooked, wicked grin that could be the best thing ever or the scariest. It was the same look whether he was going to hit you or hug you. "Bed? But I just woke up." The bottle fell to the carpet, bouncing harmlessly before rolling away. 

"C'mon." Nate stepped forward, leaning into his dad's space, digging his fingers into his skin as he wrapped his arms around his chest. He pulled, leveraging his weight to get Alvey up off the couch. The man wobbled, letting himself drape over Nate. 

"You're my favorite son."

His words didn't slur, but they were fuzzy enough around the edges to blur together. Alvey was loose and heavy, letting Nate bear most his weight as they shuffled towards the bedroom. The dense muscles in his arm dug into Nate's bare shoulder and neck, moving and squeezing like an undulating snake. Alvey's other hand shifted from holding onto his chest and pushing away the walls that lurched towards him.

They stumbled over the threshold, feet tangling as Alvey chuckled under the alcohol fumes of his breath. "Don't--don't bother with girls. They're no good for you." 

"Yeah. I know, dad." 

"No good." They stopped at the edge of the bed, Alvey swaying for a few seconds as his fucked-up sense of balance reoriented itself to standing still. He turned his face into Nate's neck, nuzzling into his shoulder and up to the short hairs behind his ear. "You're a good kid," he breathed into the ticklish curve, his lips just grazing the skin.

Nate shivered. "Lay down." He shifted his weight, trying to ease Alvey off his shoulder, but the man clung, his fingers wandering. "Dad," Nate whined as a slick wet tongue tip just grazed his skin. 

"Mmmmm... Nate..." The noise of lips pursing, sucking, was louder than the growled sound of his name. Alvey was hard when he pressed into Nate's side. 

Nate's hands gripped his father's hips, pushing him away as he tilted him off balance. With a snorting laugh, Alvey fell onto the messy bed, sprawling across the wrinkled sheets. His shirt bunched up, showing off his toned stomach, his loose sweats hanging low enough to make it a very long view. For an old drunk, he was certainly cut. 

Seeming to read his mind, Alvey twisted on the blanket, one had gliding down to emphasize the bulge in his sweats. "Fuck. Whiskey makes me horny." 

"You know, most guys couldn't get it up after drinking that much." 

"Yeah, you'd know." Alvey's words were teasing, not quite meant to be as cutting as they felt. Nate started backing out of the room. "Hey, hey, don't go." 

"I don't need to watch you jack off, dad."

"Yeah, well, you might learn something."

"Good night." Nate kept moving, until he heard a wet sniffle. Oh, fuck. Not this shit.

"You're the only one I got left." 

Nate sighed, defeated, turning back to the bed. Alvey wasn't crying, not quite, but he'd moved swiftly into a maudlin mood. His dark eyes glittered through his lashes even as his hand continued to massage his dick through his pants. 

"Dad, I gotta--"

"Don't leave me." 

"I'm not gonna leave. I'm right here."

Alvey whined, twisting his spine and turning his face away. "Come here."

"Dad..."

"Please?"

Nate gave in. He always gave in. He approached the side of the bed, his toes curling in his sneakers as he prepared to jump away if Alvey moved wrong. His free hand lifted, grasping at the air in Nate's general direction. Nate tilted back, wavering between leaving and staying. It was pathetic, seeing his old man drunk off his ass, crying for his lost family. He imagined that this is what it felt like to watch someone slip into dementia, like putting your beloved grandpa into a home and seeing him fade away. There was nothing he could do, but offer what comfort he could.

Nate reached out, catching those long fingers in his own. He could feel the callouses--so familiar--and the scars. Alvey's grip was still strong, very strong, and his palm was so warm. He was about to say something, when the world suddenly spun into a blur around him.

He was on his back, the carpet scraping against his bare skin. Alvey's face swam over his, the asshole cackling as he pinned Nate's arms over his head, rough fingers trapping his wrists like a vice. Knees pinned his hips down, and the heavy weight of his dad's balls swayed over his dick like a caressing hand. 

"You're always so easy," Alvey grinned, his face suddenly dark and dangerous and deliriously happy. "I thought I taught you better than that." 

Nate squirmed, his mind racing through moves, holds, ways to get out from under the stinking weight that pressed into him. His dad shivered with the movement, thrusting forward, humming deep in his throat. "Yeah, like that."

"Dad--" The rest of his words were swallowed by Alvey's mouth pressing messily into his own. He could taste the booze on his tongue, smell it on the old man's skin. He wanted to fight this, but Alvey's words from long ago echoed back into his mind. 

_"It's a mindset. It's a mental fucking illness."_

It was never as true as it was in this very moment. He didn't want to fight. Not his dad. Not like this. 

Not when he was needed so badly. 

Nate relaxed, tilted his head just right. He licked right back into his father's mouth, pulling the fumes into his lungs like he could get a second-hand high from this. Maybe if he bit him, sucked at the alcohol-soaked blood, he'd be able to block this whole thing out as well as his father could. He nipped at Alvey's lips, lightly, not wanting to hurt him.

Alvey pulled back, wicked grin in place as he stared at Nate's mouth. He could feel how sore his lips were, sure that they were swollen and wet. "My favorite," Alvey breathed, then he bent close, rubbing his scruff against Nate's barely-there morning stubble. He released one of Nate's hands, and for a brief moment, Nate thought this was it, it was over. 

Alvey leaned his weight completely onto his one arm, grinding the small bones of Nate's wrist together in his grip. Nate cried out, feeling useless and pinned even with one hand free. If he were anyone else, anyone, he would have stopped this right there. He would have done something--anything--to stop it. He could have done it. He could have.

Alvey used his free hand to shove down his own sweats enough to free his dick. It slapped against Nate's bare stomach with an audible noise in Alvey's haste. When his dad fumbled at his pants, he was finally shocked into moving, reaching up to grip his shoulder to try to push him away. Nate writhed, feeling all the places where the carpet burned, as Alvey clumsily reached into his pants. 

Rough hands squeezed and pulled at his limp dick. It was dry and artless, just heat and pressure that made him moan as his cock thickened and filled. Too quickly he was shivering, trying to thrust up into the infuriatingly delicious grip. 

"Fuck," Nate whined. "Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck."

"Yeah." Alvey nodded into his neck, sucking the skin there. "Fuck. Gonna fuck you." His rough grip was tight, warm, as he stroked and massaged and brought him quickly to the edge. Nate tried to hold it off, focusing on the ceiling and repeating to himself "this is my dad, this is my dad" over and over, trying to bring to mind those times when he was small and alone and so disappointed in the man who should have raised him, instead of leaving him with Jay. 

"Dad."

Alvey's grip tightened, bordering on painful. 

"Dad." 

Teeth scraping against his collarbone. 

"Dad." 

A hot, blood-heavy dick grazing over his stomach.

"Dad." 

Tongue tracing the edge of his ear. 

"Dad," he cried once more. So close!

"Son."

And Nate shuddered, falling apart. His father's grip on his cock was suddenly wet and slick and felt even more wonderful as he pulled another thick spurt from him, wrung another ounce of pleasure from his overwrought body. 

"That's my boy." Alvey's face was glowing with pride, like he'd just won a fight instead of coming in dad's hand. He leaned down, capturing Nate's mouth in another whiskey-tainted kiss, licking into his open mouth as Nate worked to get his breathing back under control. 

When Alvey finally released his other hand, the blood rushed back making his fingers tingle. Almost in apology, Alvey rubbed at his arm, over his neck. Warm hands wandered up and down his chest, feeling his sides, moving like an owner soothing a pet even as he rubbed Nate's come into his skin. The slick marks burned, painting him with the reminder of what he'd just done, what he'd given in to. 

What was going to happen again. And again. 

With a groan, Alvey wrapped his arms around Nate, cradling the boy a moment before pulling him up and off the floor. He moved with an easy grace, even with a few bottles of booze in his stomach and his sweats around his ankles. Nate bounced lightly on the bed, forcing himself to remain pliant. 

Alvey kicked off his sweats, swaying a little as he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it away. He kneeled down to try to untie Nate's shoes, but it was a loosing battle. His drink-heavy fingers made the knots worse, until with a growl Alvey just yanked his shoes off. One flew hard enough it cracked the mirror, knocking over a few knickknacks that Lisa had left behind. Nate's attention was drawn to a figure of a bear standing in front of two cubs. He'd given that to her for Christmas, a cheap gift from a dollar store. The fur of the creatures was just vague gestures of clay, painted in a runny-brown color that looked terrible against the floor. 

Then Alvey was tugging down his pants, pulling them off with a flourish and sending them flying. 

His naked body was a heavy weight, flattening Nate into the bed with a huff of escaped air. Alvey pressed kisses to whatever skin he could reach, his scruff leaving long scrapes among the tickle of his tongue. He hitched Nate's thigh up onto his hip, opening him up as his dick poked and searched for his hole. 

"Wait." Nate jerked his face to the side, one hand flailing for the nightstand. "Wait." 

Alvey's cock found his hole, pressing into the soft divot flesh with a terrible burn of friction. 

"Wait!"

Nate shoved his body away, stretching out to reach the nightstand. He put all his strength into it, twisting under his father until he was on his stomach. Alvey's hands squeezed his ass as Nate pulled out the bottle of lube he knew would be there. It was half-used, the whole thing messy with dried come and lube and other stains from the frequent, frantic uses of it. The cap was sticky with dried gunk, but Nate managed to pry it open. He squirted it into his hand and reached back, blindly catching Alvey's dick to coat it in slick. 

The air was full of wet noise as he tried to get as much lube onto his dad as he could. The man wasn't making it easy, thrusting and moving and escaping his grip. When he tried to push in once again, Nate managed to get his hand between them, swiping his own hole with what lube he had left before his dad pushed his hand away. He squeezed Nate's wrists again, forcibly moving them down into the mattress and holding them there. Scarred hands covered scarred hands, fingers entwining. 

He thrust forward, and his dick skimmed over the slick hole, seeking purchase. Another thrust, and he just couldn't get enough leverage to push in. Alvey's growl caused his whole body to vibrate with the deep noise of it, even as he let him go to reach back, hold him open, line up his dick. It was pressure, and then his body gave up, opening and engulfing as Alvey groaned and sighed and laid heavily against him once again. 

Nate was shaking, holding back the pleasure and trying so very hard to embrace the pain. Pain was always better, an obliterating rush that pushed everything away but the guy in front him, take down the guy in front of him.

But Alvey was behind him, thrusting, grinding, swiveling his hips, pummeling Nate's hole until he was sliding in and out and in so deep he could feel it up his spine. 

"My boy, my boy, beautiful boy." Alvey's voice was warm, chanting and praising and fucking him with such focus, he could feel it all over, in the scrapes and cuts and bruises that blossomed on his skin. "I made you for this, made you for my cock." Nate tilted back his head, and Alvey pushed forward, leaning around him to capture his mouth in an awkward kiss. Then he broke away, gripped his hips, and started to fuck harder.

Nate dug his fingers into the mattress, pressing back into the pressure, focusing on the words now falling ridiculously dirty from his father's lips. "Fucking slut. Such a whore for my cock. Can't get enough. Gotta fuck your daddy. Cock whore. Fuck anyone, just to get it. Fuck, oh fuck."

Liquid like blood spilt over his wrecked hole as Alvey pulled out, fell down against him, utterly loose and useless. Nate slowly let himself collapse against the mattress, leaving his father heaving and panting against his back. In moments, Alvey's breathing steadied, then slowed, until he was pretty sure the old man was asleep. 

Only then did Nate pull himself out from under the dead weight of his dad. He gathered his clothes. He left the figurine on the floor, but picked up his errant shoe. Then he kicked the door closed behind him as he left. He dumped his sweats into the hamper, tucked his shoes in his room, and got into the shower. He wasn't quite through his exercise routine for the morning, but he suddenly had the urge to get clean.


End file.
